What He Is
by heatherlea75
Summary: Hyde has a new, perfect-for-him, girlfriend. To Jackie's surprising disgust, she treats Hyde like crap. Unfortunately, Jackie's the only one who thinks so. Its up to her to prove to him that he's not as worthless as the newest whore in his life thinks.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything!

**Warning: **Language

**Author's Note: **This story has been haunting me for the past few months. I think its time to post it. It will likely be my last fic, though I am going to try to finish the ones I have started and not completed. I hope you'll find this one believable - this is going to explore some areas that aren't really pretty. But I think it has the potential to be powerful. We'll see if I do it justice. And as always, I believe wholeheartedly in Jackie/Hyde happy endings. The subtitles are what each character (Hyde and Jackie) are thinking about Hyde at the moment. I'm sure you would have realized that without me saying so, but I'm saying so anyway. :) Please read and review, and thank you so much!!! This is set about six months after the series finale, so includes as canon that repugnant season 8.

**What He Is **

_What he is... _

_ Is not much. _

Not much in life was worth getting upset about. Steven Hyde learned that at an early age, and as he grew older, found it more and more true. Because inevitibly, life went on. After the Chicago fiasco, life went on. After he discovered his drunken marriage, life went on. After Sam left, life went on. After Jackie and Fez hooked up, life went on.

Hyde figured not much was all he could ask for.

It wasn't too bad. He had a job that he didn't have to work hard to keep. He had a cheap place to live. He had friends that amused him most of the time. And he had a new chick who knew to expect not much from him and was satisfied with it.

He met her at a bar. It was a dump, but it served the best beer in Point Place. Hell, all that he required of a bar was good beer. So trashy or not, it became his hangout of choice. The others hated it, and after a few nights refused to go with him. He didn't give a crap. Drinking was often better done alone. Especially on those nights when he started to remember something he didn't want to remember.

After Fez and Jackie became a couple, it happened more often than he liked. After the unholy couple broke up, it happened even more.

He tried to forget. Tried damned hard. Beer helped.

So he'd met her. Joni. He hadn't picked her up the first night, though he could have. That night he'd been irritated. Forman and Donna had spent the afternoon arguing about complete bullshit. Fez and Kelso had acted weird because of something that happened the weekend before. Hyde had a suspicion, but kept quiet. And Jackie.

Yeah, she'd just been her normal, bitchy, manipulative self. Talked him into fiddling with her car until it stopped making whatever noise she'd imagined up. He went to the bar pissed that he'd helped her out. He went to the bar angry because he couldn't figure out just why he'd done her bidding.

He'd gone, and Joni sat down next to him. She reminded him of Chrissy a bit; she hated the government, authority, and liked Zeppelin. The perfect chick. They'd hooked up a week later.

Okay, she was no beauty queen. She was decent enough. Pretty, not hot, not beautiful, but pretty. Her eyes were nothing special, some greyish color. Skin wasn't perfect but at least not pock-marked. Body was pretty cool. A little thicker than he usually liked, but included a nice, plump rack. Frankly, he didn't give much of a damn what she looked like. He just had to remember to not compare her to certain other chicks. Like Jackie. Because whatever he felt about Jackie, he'd always think she was drop-dead gorgeous. That was just a truth.

But he didn't need drop-dead gorgeous anymore. It was overrated. He'd been with drop-dead gorgeous, and it had been hell. Much as he enjoyed being evil and looked forward to meeting Satan one day, that kind of hell wasn't his idea of a good time. Anymore.

He was a hell of a lot more suited to a chick like Joni than Jackie. So he wasn't getting much in the looks department. Saved him a hell of a lot in others.

So long as he remembered that, he was satisfied. And most of the time he remembered.

_What he is... _

_ Is a loser. _

Another Monday. Hyde ditched work early and now sat in the Forman basement, watcing television and drinking a well-earned beer. No one was around and it was nice. He took a long sip. Yep, it was nice.

The door opened and he scowled, but it was Joni, so he grinned and held up the beer to her. A pseudo toast. Three weeks they'd been hanging out and she already just walked in. Pretty badass. "So?"

She plopped down on the couuch and lifted her feet to the table. She wore boots. Like his. Yeah, she was no fashion bug, which sometimes irritated him but usually he didn't care. Much. Her smile was good, though the teeth were crooked. No money for dentists, she'd told him, or anything. He related well. "Its on," she said.

He nodded and turned his attention back to Gilligan. "Cool." Some biker brawl, some territorial disupte between rival gangs. He'd never been to one. She had and loved it. Said they were great shows. Joni craved violence.

The thought made him smile. It was almost like hanging out with another him. Pretty damn cool. The best part was that she didn't expect commitment or some freaking wedding ring, or even faithfulness. Hell, she'd told him she knew he couldn't possibly be faithful.

His idea of heaven. Most of the time.

The others came trambling down the stairs, and Hyde rolled his eyes. More and more lately he was sick of the lot of them. Joni gave him a knowing grin and a wink. She got it. She got him.

Donna sat down next to Joni and smiled uncomfortably. "Hey, Joni," she said.

"Blondie." Joni nodded.

Forman sat next to Donna, mumbling something under h is breath. Fez and Kelso stayed behind the couch, at a distance from one another although they exchanged strange looks. After a moment, Kelso grimaced and stalked over to the deep freeze. Hyde wondered when they would just freaking admit what the real problem was.

And Jackie, the bitch, sat down in the lawn chair. She made a big production of being dainty. Hyde tried not to look at her, or notice how her skirt flared out and showed her tanned legs for a tantalizing moment as she crossed one over the other.

"So Hyde," Joni said in her phony Bronx accent. Sometimes it entertained him, other times he wanted to tell her to knock it the hell off. Today he didn't care. "You gonna spring for dinner? Or am I gonna have to pay again?"

He grinned but kept his eyes on the t.v. "What do you think?"

"I think you're a cheap bastard, is what I think."

"Oh, he is cheap. That's a well known fact." Lately, Jackie'd spoken her burns in a voice that was just a bit softer than before. Hyde didn't really get it. And wished he didn't notice it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jackie toss her hair over her bare shoulders. What in the hell was she wearing? Some off the shoulder shirt that looked like it was barely holding up. He wondered if he pissed her off enough so that her entire body shook if it would fall off.

He grimaced. He should kick his own ass for that thought.

"Of course, he did used to by _me _dinner."

He had to bite his lip to keep from grinning. Bitch or not, or maybe because of it, his ex-girlfriend could burn. And he liked burns. Any burns. The source or target didn't matter. A burn was a burn.

Joni stood and scowled. Hyde frowned. Jackie used to say only uggos scowled. She was right.

"Yeah, well, you know why, don't you?" Joni raised her eyebrows at the much smaller girl. "Ain't no big mystery that girls like you only go to bed with men who give 'em stuff like dinner." She grinned. "Like a hooker. Which is what you were to him, really." She sent a sidelong glance to Hyde, and he shifted on his chair. "One he paid for with his self-respect, if he ever had any."

"Uh!" Jackie's gasps hadn't changed much. High pitched, loud, hell on his ears.

"Is that what he told you?"

Donna sounded pretty pissed. Odd, considering her strained relationship with Jackie. But he shook the wonder away and decided that this could lead to a chick fight. A cool chick fight. One that would probably distract everyone in the now-quiet basement from what Joni'd said. He managed to look up at the two standing girls with a hopeful grin.

Joni just smirked and waved a hand at Donna. "He didn't have to." She shrugged and gave him a smirk. "I mean, come on. Do you really believe all that crap about the rich girl and the poor boy? Please." She looked pointedly at Jackie. "No girl like you ever really cares about a guy like him." She stood taller. "That's why he picked that stripper over you, you know. He knows the score."

And now, he couldn't breath well. He could feel the eyes on him, the expectations, so he did his best to give a little shrug and turn his mouth up at the corners. But what in the hell could he say? Joni wasn't saying anything he hadn't thought a million times before.

"Shut up, you whore!"

It startled him, Jackie's voice. Hard and strong. She stood now, and he watched her. Couldn't help it. Her hands rested on her hips and she gave Joni the harshest look she could manage.

"You don't know me, or how I felt about Steven."

Other girls would wither under Jacdkie's hate stare, but Joni only laughed. "So? Look, it doesn't even matter, because this guy..." She pointed her thumb at Hyde. "This guy doesn't have it in him to love. Especially not some shallow little bitch like you. Right, babe?"

Hyde lifted his shoulders for a second. "Whatever." Everyone knew that, anyway. He knew it. Everyone did.

Except maybe Jackie, and for God's sake, she needed to. Then again, maybe she did know it now. How could she not? There was no way, not even in the seventh ring of hell where anything bad was possible, could Jackie still believe that he'd loved her.

His stomach hurt. Bad. Beer not sitting right at all.

The basement had never been this quiet for so long.

"Sorry for disillusioning you, princess."

He stared at the television again. Jackie's footsteps, clapping of heels, then the basement door slammed closed. He closed his eyes and tried to picture a beach in Florida, where none of the slutty girls in bikinis looked like either Jackie or Joni.

Still more silence.

Finally, after nothing happened but Joni sitting down and her subsiding chuckles, he stood. "Okay, then. If today's episode of As the World Turns is over, I'm out of here." Donna glared at him. Forman watched him with a furrowed brow. Kelso looked as if he wanted to say something, but when Hyde met his eyes, he looked away. And Fez just hung his head.

Joni stood and took his hand. "Awesome. We've got a date to go on, don't we, loser?"

They'd joked about being losers. Course, it was mostly her doing the joking after she'd hustled him in a game of pool that first night. The nickname had just kind of stuck.

Hell, at least it was cooler than certain other nicknames. John Lennon called himself a loser in that one Beatles song. Must be cool. Lennon was cool. Being a loser was cool. Better than being the kind of "winner" Jackie'd tried to force him into being. Yep. He'd rather be called Loser than Puddin' Pop any day of the week.

He tried to remember that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own.

**Warning: **Language.

**Author's Note: **Thank you SO much for the reviews! My plan for this story is to post two chapters a weekend, since the chapters are going to be relatively short. Hopefully I can keep inspired. Reviews definitely help! Hee hee! Hope you enjoy this!

**What He Is **

_What he is... _

_Is a liar. _

Jackie Burkhart knew that certain things were true. That she was unbelievably beautiful was true. That Fez was gay was true. That Michael was now questioning his own sexuality was true. That Donna was a lumberjack dating a skinny spazoid was true. That if she didn't find a decent man who would love her, take care of her, and buy her things soon she would die was also true.

What wasn't true was that Steven never loved her, like that bitchwhore said. Or at least Jackie told herself that. She also reminded herself that Joni was not only ugly, bt a complete and utter bitch. And not in the good way that she herself was.

Perhaps the truest truth she knew was that Joni was completley unworthy of Steven, the Steven who wasn't too busy lying to himself and everyone else.

Jackie spent a lot of time alone lately, due to the breakup with Fez that had involved more laughter than tears, Donna's preoccupation with Eric, and Michael's crisis that had him seeking out any loose woman in Point Place. And Steven had his new, mean, disgusting bitchwhore. Though even if he hadn't had Joni, Jackie wouldn't be hanging out much with him.

How could she? After all that he'd done to her?

It was okay, though, because she had things to do. She took classes at Point Place Junior College. Next semester, she was going to a real college, probably Notre Dame, though she hadn't decided for certain.

But sometimes she was bored, and sometimes she followed Steven to that hideous bar he'd recently taken a liking to. In disguise, of course. A hat, long coat, huge Jackie O sunglasses. She'd sit at a table just half a dozen feet from the bar and watch him drink. She'd been there the night the bitchwhore sat down next to him. She'd watched him flirt, watched her flirt. And she'd wondered if it was for the best. If that was the kind of woman he really wanted.

She didn't know why she was so curious about Steven's goings on. And for the sake of her sanity, she tried not to wonder about it very often.

It was just something to do, she insisted to herself.

But she'd stopped following him after it was clear that he and the bitchwhore had hooked up, after they'd made out right there at the bar. He had someone else. And the truth was, maybe that would make it easier for her to leave Point Place.

She ignored the fact that it hurt. And she also ignored the nagging voice inside her heart that screamed, "Steven is a big fat liar!"

_What he is.... _

_Is alone. _

After the incident, Jackie went to the Hub. And unsurprisingly, just as she expected, five-sixths of their gang showed up half an hour later. She did her best to smile.

Donna sat down next to her. "You okay?"

Jackie sat straight. Tossed her hair. "Of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be okay?" To prove her point, she took a bite out of the burger she'd barely touched. Besides, it wasn't as if Donna truly cared. She hadn't for a long time.

Jackie'd become used to it.

Donna raised an eyebrow. "Oh, maybe because you ran out of the basement so fast you started a fire," she said. "Don't tell me you care about what Joni said to you."

Jackie rolled her eyes, though her stomach plummeted, her cheeks warmed on the insides. She prayed she wasn't blushing. Like hell would she let Donna see anything she felt anymore. "Are you crazy? Of course I don't. She's nothing."

Donna nodded, then looked at her puppet, or boyfriend. "She better stop calling me Blondie, though. I mean, I get objectified enough by you dillholes. I don't need a woman doing it, too."

Jackie lowered her head and pressed her lips together. Leave it to Donna to find fault in Joni for something like that.

"She and Hyde seem perfect for each other. I mean, that chick can BURN!" Michael sounded almost normal. Had it not been for what he'd said, Jackie would have smiled.

Instead, she lifted her head and glared at each of her friends in turn. "She's awful for him," she snapped. "She's mean and bitchy and ugly, and just...she's mean."

Donna stared at her. "You're calling her mean? _You?_"

Eric grinned. "Oh, come on, Donna. Jackie's nice, like Lucifer is nice."

The two lovebirds laughed and Jackie shook her head, her stomach now burning. "Fine. Go ahead and laugh while that whore talks horribly to Steven."

Donna sighed. "It wasn't that bad, Jackie." She shrugged. "I think he kind of likes being put down. He's used to it. Plus it gives him an excuse to dish it out, which I think we can all agree he loves to do." Then she pointed at Jackie. "And you used to call him poor and dirty all the time."

"I never talked to him the way she does," Jackie said, her voice rising, her heart now pounding. She stood up. They all made her sick. Couldn't they see it? Were they all just that damned blind? "Whatever. I'm leaving."

She thought she heard Donna making some sarcastic comment as she flounced out. Didn't matter much anymore. So Donna took Joni's side. Just like she'd taken Sam's side. Wasn't a surprise.

She took a walk, intending only going until she'd cooled off. Then she'd head back to the basement and they'd all pretend nothing happened. It always worked, though not so well anymore. The walk took her through all of Point Place, lasted two hours, and ended at the stupid bar Steven now loved.

For five minutes, she stood in front of the door, shivering because the sun was going down and leaving a chilly breeze in its wake. And of course she hadn't worn a jacket. She told herself fifteen times that he wasn't in there, and even if he was, he'd be with the bitchwhore.

She went in anyway. He wasn't there. She was going to leave, but the bartender gave her a nice smile and she was thirsty. She had a beer and thought how funny it was that she was alone. Even the few men in this dump were more concerned with their own beers than picking her up.

Maybe she wasn't as beautiful as she'd always thought. The beer started to taste sour, and she decided to leave.

She walked out the door and there he was, on his way in. They both stopped. And her heart stopped, too, just enough to leave her a little dizzy.

He frowned. "What are you doing here, Jackie?"

She shrugged. "Just..." She came so close to telling him that she was worried about him, that she was looking for him. But then she remembered.

He wouldn't care.

"Nothing. Where's Joni?"

He looked away. "She had to go to work for a while."

Jackie stared at him. He'd gone Zen, of course, and after everything, she couldn't read through it anymore. "I thought you had a date."

Except that she noticed that his shoulders tensed. And his foot was tapping. She still knew some of the signs. Something was bothering him.

"We do. I'm just hanging out here until she gets done."

The wind picked up and Jackie wrapped her arms around herself. "Oh." She shifted on her feet. She didn't want to leave, but didn't know what to say. "So...where does she work?"

Steven shrugged again. "Don't know." His look darkened. "Why do you care?" And then he grinned. "Oh, you want to go kick her ass? Because if you do, let me know. That's good stuff to watch, man."

She rolled her eyes, but smiled and reached out to swat at his stomach. "Steven, god, you're such a pig!"

For a few lovely moments, he grinned at her and she back at him. And then they both realized they were acting like they used to, and the tension was back full force.

She wondered if Joni left him alone like this often.

She wondered if he ever wondered if she was alone a lot.

And she wondered if they had being alone in common once again.

He backed up a step. She rewrapped her arms around herself and cleared her throat.

"Well, I'm gonna go in," he said with a smirk. "Beer's calling my name."

She nodded. "Yeah. See you later, then."

She'd only taken a few slow steps when he said her name, and of course she turned back, her heart now pounding ferociuosly. She couldn't quite meet his eyes, so she stared at his neck. His adam's apple was moving. He took off his jean jacket.

"Here."

He tossed it, and in self-defense, she caught it. He didn't say anything else, his face remained impassive, and then he turned and walked into the bar.

Jackie brought the jacket up to her nose and inhaled the scent that was so familiar it brought tears to her eyes.

She wondered if she'd ever stop feeling so alone without him.

As she walked home, she thought of him. Was he in that bar by himself? Had Joni stood him up? Did she treat Steven as badly spoke to him? Why was he with her if she did?

And had Joni been right? Had she only been some sort of hooker to him?

Pursing her lips, Jackie decided she wasn't going to stew over this at home alone. She turned and headed to where she knew he'd show up eventually. While she waited, she'd come up with a plan. She had lots of practice doing that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I don't own.

**Warning: **Language, a little adult theme thing going on (brief)

**Author's Note: **Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing! I'm going to get everyone a personal response - I've always felt bad that I haven't taken the time to do that, so I'm going to start. :) So, I hope you'll trust me. This story is going to be a bit raw, eventually, hence the M rating. But have faith. Jackie has faith, so you should too. :) I'm posting this a bit early since I've got a head start on the next chapter. But don't expect that until Friday or Saturday. Please review! :)

**What He Is **

_What he is... _

_Is stupid. _

Steven Hyde had never appreciated school. Learning was best done on the streets, by experience instead of reading lifeless words on pages that could be burned, torn, destroyed. And so, due to the fact that he was a non-conformist, freedom-loving man, he learned only what he chose to.

Usually.

Certain women, well, one woman, forced him to learn things he never wanted to. Good and bad. After her, he tried to forget it all. He'd thought Sam would distract him, teach him other stuff that would make it all disappear. He was wrong about Sam in a lot of ways. And those damn things Jackie taught him stayed. He tried to do the opposite. Usually failed.

He had to admit that she was a hell of a teacher.

So now, in what he apparently trying to make his third real relationship with a woman, he found himself applying the Jackie lessons, though always questioning why.

The biker brawl was cool. Rough, loud, violent. Perfect. Hyde enjoyed it. Cheered on one dude, then the other. Heckled one, then the other. Changed sides at will. It didn't matter to anyone. He liked that. Joni did, too. He liked that even more. Hanging out with a chick who liked violence was just plain cool.

And then some dude started hitting on her. An old friend of hers, she explained casually. Another Kelso, he figured. An ex who couldn't let go.

Jackie taught him to be jealous. Jackie taught him how to react. She loved it when he was jealous and violent. He'd decided most chicks liked that kind of thing. Protection. A hint of possessiveness. Whatever. She'd beat it into his brain, and he couldn't react any other way anymore. That's what he told himself.

So he punched the guy. The guy fought back, and he'd ended up with a black eye. He didn't care. The other guy looked a hell of a lot worse. And fighting didn't suck. At all. Good stress relief, beating the hell out of someone.

What did suck was that Joni, after giving him one of those scowls that made him wonder what he was doing with her, stepped on his glasses. Smashed them to pieces. And laughed, right before screaming at him that she could take care of herself, blah, blah, blah. Stalked off. An hour later, he saw her getting into a car with the asshole.

Not that surprising, really.

On the way home, he figured it was over. No big deal. She was just a chick, and as such, not worth getting upset over. He could find another one, a hotter one, with hardly any effort at all. And he would. Just as soon as he got a new pair of glasses. Stupid overreacting bitch.

Jackie's fault. She'd made him stupid, and even though he'd gotten rid of her, she was still making him stupid.

_What he is..._

_Is pissed off. _

Hyde trudged down the outside stairs to the Forman basement and shook his head. Good damn thing he'd moved back down there. Another good damn thing that he no longer had a curfew and his comings and goings were more or less ignored by Red and Kitty. It was three a.m. So when he noticed the basement light still on, he rolled his eyes. Probably Forman and Donna doing disgusting things to one another. And Fez hiding in the shower, watching. Gay or not, he was still a perverted voyeur.

Just inside the door, he stopped. Jackie lay curled up on the couch, his jacket wrapped arouund her upper half. He grimaced and tightened his hands into fists. And yet, the catch in his chest didn't go away. Neither did the one in his throat. Neither did the thought that she looked incredibly beautiful.

Pissed him off. He made sure to take heavy steps. Turned on the television just a little louder than necessary. Sighed hard when he sat down in his chair.

And frowned as she stirred. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. He focused on the television.

"Steven! What happened to your eye?"

He shrugged. "Got in a fight." She gasped, and he looked at her. She'd paled, and her left hand covered her mouth. Something deep down overruled his initial idea to twist the situation into a burn, and he sighed. Damn it. "If it makes you feel better, the other guy looks a hell of a lot worse."

She sighed, then smiled. Her hand fell to her lap where she clutched his jacket. "Of course he does. I mean, you're the best at beating guys up."

He grinned. She was always so proud of him when he beat some loser up, especially one who was hitting on her or looking at her weird, or just at all. And he'd always liked it.

Another thing that pissed him off. Another thing that made him stupid. He killed the grin. "Go get me a beer." He figured it would make her go away. Jackie Burkhart was bossy. She didn't enjoy the tables being turned on her. He'd learned that well.

Her turn to kill a smile, and she glared at him. "What? Why should I?"

He raised an eyebrow and glanced at his jacket. "'Cause I let you _borrow_ my jacket." Satisfaction replaced anger as she stood and headed towards the door. But then she tugged open the shower curtain.

When she handed him the beer, he wasn't sure what to do. This wasn't what he'd expected. He took it. His best idea. Only idea, really.

He stared at the t.v. Some show was on, but what it was, he had no clue. He was hyper-aware of her eyes on him, but he wasn't going to give in to her. He'd done enough of that in the past, enough for his entire lifetime. No more.

"Steven, can I ask you something?"

He held his eyes closed for a moment. Didn't say anything. And of course she took that as a "yes".

"Did you really think of me as just a hooker like Joni said?"

She wanted reassurance. She wanted words. Just like always. And reassuring words were always impossible for him. He cleared his throat and kept staring at the set instead of looking at her. No giving in. "Nah," he said. "More like a high-class call girl."

"You're a LIAR, Steven!" She shook her head. "Damn it, I knew you were going to say something stupid like that."

He looked at her. She stood there, her cheeks flushed, eyes bright, and he had to swallow back the idiotic heat building inside. God damned lust. And it fueled the anger that was there all the time when he looked at her or thought of her or was near her. He took a deep breath. "Then why did you ask me the question?"

She sank down on the couch and stared at his jacket. "Because after you gave me the jacket, I thought...I just..." Her eyes closed. "I thought maybe you...." Her head shot up and her eyes formed a nasty glare. "I thought maybe you weren't such a first-class ass anymore." Her lips twisted into a sneer that was more sexy than disdainful. "I gave you far too much credit."

He rolled his eyes. "Look, Jackie, I'm too tired to have this conversation. Too old, for that matter. So just forget about it." He turned his attention back to the television and tried to mentally will his irritating ex to leave before he did something he regretted.

"No one likes her, you know."

The lust was gone, luckily. All it took was that snotty tone of voice of hers. And as tired as he was, bone-crushingly so, anger built quickly and his hand tightened on his beer can. He took a long drink just to stop himself from saying anything at all.

"She's a bitch."

He almost laughed. "So are you."

"But I'm a good bitch, Steven."

Her slight smile made him return it. "A good bitch?"

She tossed her hair. Flirtatiously, of course. He shifted on his chair. Damned second head. Damn it.

"A high class bitch," she said, her smile widening.

Her entire face brightened, her eyes started that shiny glow thing that always kept him looking at her. Then she cocked her head to the right, pretended she had an itch on her neck that she scratched with her fingertips, skiming them over her bare collarbone and making him remember – lust for – the taste of that incredible skin.

So much for anger.

His eye lids felt heavy, his throat dry. His legs spread slightly. That spot...that one spot that made her moan his name so intensely it echoed inside of his body...that spot that made her do things to him with such passion...her body...her insanely hot body...the way her legs wrapped around him...the way she took him inside so deep...Jackie...the way she clenched around him with such need....

"Steven!"

That was not the way she used to moan his name.

He grimaced and curled his hands into fists yet again. "Damn it, Jackie, what?" He glared at her, but this time she didn't return fire with fire. She stared at him softly.

"I was saying that Joni treats you horribly."

"So?" He arched an eyebrow. "Why do you care?"

She flushed and looked down. Mumbled something he thought he could make out, but mayge he was just drunk because it sounded like she's said she thought she still loved him. She couldn't have said that.

She couldn't still love him. She couldn't even think she still loved him.

Then her head shot up and defiance colored her cheeks instead of embarassment. "I don't. My point is that your _girlfriend_ doesn't care about you. And it should bother you."

He clenched his jaw. "Get out of here, Jackie."

How many times had he heard, been shown, that someone didn't care about him? His mother. Father. Friends.

Jackie.

She just stared at him with those eyes, and it made him hot. Angry hot. He swallowed again, and it tasted of rage. "I said get out."

"Steven..."

He'd heard it before, that sweet voice, that allegedly caring one she used when she wanted to get to him. The one that sounded like vocal silk. Love, she used to say. It was love.

Like hell it was love. Like hell it hade ever been love.

The rage burned bitter fire in his throat, and his entire body began shaking.

He stood up, his heart pounding, every inch of him sparking with the need to destroy. His beer fell out of his hand. Didn't matter. His eyes blurred. He couldn't breathe.

The table in front of Jackie was light and he pushed it over as hard as he could.

"Get the hell out of here, Jackie!"

When he woke up hours later, sweating and sick as a dog, his head resting on the toilet seat, he couldn't remember how he'd gotten there. He had a vague suspicion that it had been a bad, bad night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I don't own.

**Warning: **Language

**Author's Note:** I'm so sorry that I've been bad about updating. Life has sucked lately. Hopefully things are getting better and I can write more. Thank you SO much to those of you reading and especially to those of you reviewing! Hope you enjoy this story!

**What He Is **

_What he is.... _

_Is a jerk. _

If there was anything Jackie Burkhart was used to, it was jerks. Everyone in her life was a jerk. Her parents were jerks for leaving her all the time, for cheating on one another, for just about everything they did. Her household staff were jerks for demanding payment and leaving when she couldn't provide it. One of her ex-boyfriends was a jerk for cheating on her, repeatedly. Another ex-boyfriend was a jerk for turning gay after failing to give her the night of her dreams he'd long promised. The worst ex-boyfriend was a jerk for marrying a whore instead of her. Her best friend was a jerk for choosing said ex's whore of a wife over her.

Jackie knew and understood jerks. After all, she was a jerk, too. She knew it. And admitted it.

So when Steven acted like a complete jerk the other night, she wasn't surprised. Though him knocking over the table was a bit startling. He could be violent, she knew, but only with other guys. He'd never done anything like that when it was just the two of them.

She told herself it was because he was drunk. Or maybe because he'd realized what a bitchwhore he'd hooked up with.

The next few days she made herself scarce. She was busy with school, anyhow. No one called to see where she was, and she tried not to let it disappoint her. And there was good results. She'd aced the tests she'd spent her basement-free time studying for.

But she thought of Steven, and that night. How at moments, she'd seen somethihng other than disdain in his eyes. Regret, maybe. Love, she wondered. Most likely just lust, but still. It was something other than the nothing she'd seen there since Chicago.

She couldn't stand the nothing.

And the possibility of even just lust in his eyes, in his body for her kept her thinking of him all the time.

She'd gone to the bar and seen him sitting there alone, drinking a beer, likely more than one. Probably waiting for Joni. He'd looked so small at that long bar, and jerk or not, seeing him look that tiny hurt her. Steven wasn't small. He was Steven, strong, big, tough.

This was Joni's doing, Joni's fault. Jackie knew that. And it bothered her, though she preferred to ignore the reason why it did.

No one else was going to do anything. They all thought Joni was meant for Steven. That much was clear. They wouldn't do a damn thing.

So she would. Joni thought she was nothing but a spoiled princess.

Not anymore.

_What he is..._

_Is in trouble_

Jackie Burkhart's carefully planned and rehearsed attack on the bitchwhore disappeared from her brain the second she sat down next to said bitchwhore in that gross bar. It didn't help that _she_ hardly acknowledged her presence. Or that the bartender smiled at _her _and treated _her _as if she was something special. Idiot.

"You gonna say something, Princess?"

Jackie grimaced. "That accent is stupid. Can't you speak normally?"

The bitchwhore rolled her eyes. "Fine. This normal enough for you?"

Jackie sighed and looked at the beer she'd ordered and hadn't touched. Her mind was foggy. Probably because the so-called girl next to her exuded some sort of dirty, disgusting, completley unfeminine fog. She cleared her throat. She had to fight through it. For Steven. "Look, Joni," she started. "No one else will say this..."

"But you will, right?"

She glared at the bitchwhore. "Yes. I will. You need to stay away from Steven." Joni didn't say anything but kept her ugly eyes on Jackie, and Jackie sat up straighter. She brushed her hair over her shoulder. "See, no one likes you. Not even Steven really likes you."

Joni raised an unkempt eyebrow. "Like you know how that guy feels."

It bothered Jackie that the bitchwhore so rarely called Steven by even his last name. She sat up straighter. "I so know how he feels. He can't fool me with that stupid Zen of his."

"Right. Because you two were so much in love."

"We were!" Her hands shook and she flattened them on the bar. And she told herself to just ignore the disgust in her stomach because the stickiness she was touching. "Look, you treat him like crap, and as much of an ass as he is, even he doesn't deserve it." She closed her eyes and looked down at her lap.

And as always, the memories of sweet Steven, _her_ Steven, the real Steven, washed over her with the intent of the ocean at high tide.

She was speaking, she knew that. Saying things about Steven, of course. But what exactly she was saying, she didn't know, because she was remembering, and that always left her in some place other than where she was. Somewhere high and unreachable, but somewhere full of the sweetest colors and sensations she'd ever known. In a place where he still protected her, and listened to her, and ran his fingers through her hair, brushed tears off her cheek. And where he still gave her that sweet half-smile while she did or said something to someone else. Where he still rolled his eyes, but told her he loved her and danced with her at her mother's stupid country club and took her to drive ins only to use all his energy to get her out of her panties.

The place she'd once considered an unexpected heaven.

Joni's bitchwhorey voice broke the spell.

"Huh. You make him sound like Prince Charming. Guess I'm a lucky girl. I better hang on to him, eh Princess?"

Jackie panicked. She had to change tactics and fast, otherwise this was all for naught. "What? No. No, no, no! You're not....I mean, come on, Joni." She laughed. "He's a horrible boyfriend. You already know that he's cheap. He's also impolite, poor, dirty...." She ticked off all of Steven's worst traits on her fingers. "Plus he's unromantic and rude, and he'll never write you a song or buy you a horse, or even have your name written in the sky! You deserve someone who will do that. Can't you see it? A big JONI in the sky?"

Joni held up a hand. "Alright, whatever, Princess." She took a swig of her beer. "Look, I get what you're saying." She shrugged. "I already broke up with the bastard."

She started mumbling something that Jackie couldn't quite figure out, but it didn't matter. "Oh good," she said, breathing much easier. She smiled down at the disgusting bar top. "I really think it'll be better for everyone. I mean, you don't exactly fit in with our group. Donna hates that you call her Blondie. Michael…well, Michael doesn't think you're hot. At all. And he has good taste in women. Or at least he used to. I'm not sure about now since the whole Fez thing. Eric…well, he's just scared of you."

Jackie stopped speaking and glanced at the bitchwhore. Her heart caught, much to her dismay. The bitchwhore was looking down into her glass, the way Jackie'd seen Steven do on occasion after ranting about his parents. No, she told herself, tightening her stomach to steel her resolve. No. There's nothing in Joni to feel sorry for. Nothing. She's just…a bitchwhore.

Of course, she'd once thought similarly about Steven, and she'd been wrong.

She wasn't wrong this time, she insisted to herself. Not about this stupid girl. Stupid _and_ ugly.

Joni looked up and gave a sneer that reiterated Jackie's thoughts. "Whatcha looking at? And why the hell are you still talking to me? Get away from me before you contaminate me with some shallow disease."

Jackie smiled her prettiest smile. "Gladly, loser," she said. She couldn't resist it. Steven may be a lot of things, but he wasn't a loser, and she'd heard Joni call him that too many times. "Enjoy your lonely, lonely beer. Oh, and maybe you can pick up that guy over there." She pointed to a fat and sloppy, bald guy sitting in the corner. "He looks like your type."

With that, she flounced away with a hair toss for good measure.

But something, likely the prickle in her neck, made her stop at the door and turn back. Joni was looking at her, giving her a smile that made Jackie's skin crawl. When the bitchwhore raised the beer glass, still with the smirk that left Jackie wondering if she'd really accomplished anything, she turned and left the bar. She watched the ground start to fly as she moved faster.

"She's not going to be easy to get rid of," she muttered.

"Who's not going to be easy to get rid of?"

She gasped and stopped, and there was Steven. For a few seconds, she stood there, her mouth open and her hand clutching her silk blouse at the middle of her chest. The wrinkles she was making didn't seem to matter. He was grinning at her, that stupid smart-ass one of his that even now, to her dismay, made her knees weak.

"Uh…Oh, Steven, I'm glad you're here," she said loudly. "I was looking for you. I need you to…to…" What had she made him do recently? What could she convince him, stubborn ass, to do again? "Oh! My car is making that noise again." She put her hand on his chest. What the hell? It used to work. "Can you look at it for me? I mean, you wouldn't want to be responsible for me dying in a fiery crash."

He raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"

"Steven!" She swatted at him, then pouted. "Please?"

He rolled his eyes, looked over her shoulder towards the bar. "Can't it wait? I have plans."

She frowned. "Plans? What plans? To get drunk?" She stepped closer to him. "Why do you need to get drunk?"

"Because its Tuesday," he said flatly.

She pouted again, and this time, his eyes locked on hers. "Please?" she said softly.

With a heavy sigh, he gave in. "Fine. If you buy me a couple six packs first."

"Great!" A few six packs wasn't that big of a deal. Better than him going into that bar and letting that bitchwhore skankify him even more than she'd already done. She linked her arm through his and pulled him away from the walk to the bar. "Now, lets take it over to the Forman's house since Red has all those tools and he likes it when you use them."

She didn't give him a chance to back out, to protest leaving his own car parked on the street.

And she didn't even have to push him into the driver's seat.

Progress, she told herself.

She didn't think so later on, when Steven collapsed on his cot in the basement completely plastered. She stood in the doorway and shook her head. She'd barely managed to get him downstairs before Red caught him so drunk his eyes were beer colored.

"Why do I bother, Steven?" she said, more to herself than him.

He lifted his head and gave her a drunken grin. "'Cause I'm the best you ever had," he slurred. "You told me I gave you the most earth shattering orga…"

"Okay! Whatever!" she cried, not wanting to revisit that fact. Steven didn't answer, and his head fell back down to the pillow, face first. She went to him and gently turned his head to it rested on its side.

Why the hell she cared so much, still, after everything….why the hell she thought she more than likely still loved him…She didn't know.

She watched him, and realized that he'd been drinking a lot lately. Not just since Joni, but since before. Since…

Her eyes closed. The name still hurt so much, even to think.

Sam. Since even before Sam left.

Maybe he was in more trouble than she'd been thinking.


End file.
